Byron – Giaour

Oh!   who young Leila’s glance could read

And keep that portion of his creed

Which saith that woman is but dust,

A soulless toy for tyrant’s lust?

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M. Proust – Swann’s Way

…she concluded with the wisdom invariably shewn by people who, not being in love themselves, feel that a clever man ought to be unhappy only about such persons as are worth his while; which is rather like being astonished that anyone should condescend to die of cholera at the bidding of so insignificant a creature as the common bacillus.

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